


Inktober 2019 Writers Edition

by writtenbyaslytherin



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Inktober - Fandom, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angels in love with Demons, Blood and Gore, Dragons, F/F, Fantasy, Implied Violence, Inktober, Inktober 2019, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Magic, Poetry, Short, Were-Creatures, Werewolves, all one shots, bunch of random pairings, inktober 2019 writers edition, kylux fluff, murder castle, not sure where this is going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-11-23 09:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 7,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20890193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenbyaslytherin/pseuds/writtenbyaslytherin
Summary: 2019 Inktober Writers EditionA short collection of 50 word (or so) writing prompts based off of the yearly Inktober Challenge. I will adjust tags as necessary because honestly I have no idea where this will go. Mostly it is going to be a warm up for NaNoWriMo 2019.





	1. Day 1: Ring

Day 1: Ring

He looked upon the scene that lay before him with a cruel smirk. The ring of fire blazed with the heat of Hell itself. The creature trapped within the confines of the ring of hellfire blazed with his own fury. Once lovers. A perfect match of yin and yang. Light and dark. And now it has come to this. White wings trapped, seething with rage while inky black ones looked on with cruel venom. It was time for their game to begin


	2. Day 2- Mindless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so way behind it's not even funny. I wrote this yesterday intending on catching up and well... it didn't happen. I'm going to try and catch up today. Wish me luck.
> 
> Beware this one is m/m General Hux/Kylo Ren. This is a G rating however if m/m pairings aren't your thing then I would advise skipping this prompt.

The General stood in front of the view port, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. The vast expanse of space lay before him like the feasts of his childhood. These moments were few and far between. Moments of stillness. Plans already set and in motion. His Finalizer drifting through the cosmos at an almost lazy pace. It was on these rare occasions he let his mind wander. Free of mission reports, plans to wipe out the Rebel scum; free to contemplate the billions of stars and planets he and his knight would one day rule.

"General Hux," a silky voice called out to him. "I thought I might find you here."

Warmth spread through out his core at the sound of the voice. "Kylo," he breathed barely above a whisper.

"You have had a long day Hux," Kylo reached out to his lovers mind.

"As have you. Perhaps we should retire."

Wrapping his arms around the General's waist Kylo pulled him against his chest. "Come General, I have an important matter to discuss with you," he whispered.

"As do I love."


	3. Day 3- Bait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow... I'm 7 days behind. I'm sorry peps I'm trying...

"Okay, okay," she muttered clutching her knees to her chest. "This is going to work. Both of them will show up to get me."

A single tear fell from her cheek as she hugged her legs tighter to her chest. The black leggings offered her little warmth in the damp cellar. Her captor was gracious enough to toss her a grey flannel shirt before placing her here to wait. A small part of her missed the t-shirt she had been wearing during the fight. But at the same time sitting in her sports bra and clean flannel offered her more protection than the bloody tattered remains of a shirt.

Bait, they called her. "Rough her up a bit. Make the situation urgent," the sleazy ring leader had said to his men.

Rough her up they did. For what it was worth neither left unscathed. She had met each fist with one of her own. Tossing her into the concrete wall had done her in. The blow to the back of her head left her vision blurry and the back of her neck soaked in warm sticky blood. While she drifted in and out of consciousness, they took their pictures and tossed her down into the cellar.

They wanted her hero and her villain to come get her. Come get her they would. And they would pay. Dearly.


	4. Day 4- Freeze

Thunder rolled across the sky shaking the ground below as if the mythical Cyclops was strutting about reminding the satyrs whose land they resided on. Insects buzzed about, seeking refuge next to the nearest light source. Each promising themselves that if they stayed near the light then they would survive the end of world. Lizards and snakes retreated to their hovels and rocks, eager to ride out the storm just as they had all the others of the fall season. Dreaming of blue skies and warm rays in the days to come, yet never knowing if they would ever appear again. The larger of the forests animals knew better. The scent of the on coming storm spoke of more than just loud noises and shaking ground. This storm promised rain. Cold unforgiving rain that soaked the ground. This rain brought death to the oldest and youngest of animals if they were caught too long outside the den. It also brought light. Light that flashed across the sky like a lighting bug in midsummer. Light that if it came towards the forest left death and destruction in its wake. This was what they truly feared. The silence after the strike of light to the ground. The forest frozen in time. Waiting to see if they would survive, or if the discarded leaves caught fire and ravaged their homes until the rain came to save them. Frozen in time they wait for fate to decide.


	5. Day 5 & 6-Snow and Husky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fills prompts snow and husky. 
> 
> Snarry oneshot. Nothing explicit just our favorite potions master lost in thought watching the dogs play in the snow.

The bitter wind whipped across the snow covered field flinging tufts of snow into the former professors face. He stood motionless in the cold. Too intent on watching the animals play happily in front of him. The larger of the two, a wolf with fur as dark as his long hair bounded in and out of the snow drifts chasing his companion. The smaller, but by no means weaker husky happily bounced behind him in pursuit. Each barked and yipped with merriment in a language only they could understand. Severus shook his head. How in the bloody hell he let that brat talk him into keeping these orphaned pups he would never understand. Then again, in many ways that brat had adopted him. 

The war was over. And with Voldemort dead the last of the Death Eaters were rounded up and sent off to Azkaban; the magical world was free to rebuild the lives they nearly lost. Severus himself could finally breathe. No longer a spy for Dumbledore or haunted by the ghosts of his past. He was truly free for the first time in his life. The first year was the hardest. Mostly spent in a hospital bed recovering from the bite from Nagini. He was never truly alone that year. Regular visits from the professors of Hogwarts, several students who believed him dead crying at his bedside happy to hear his snapping tone and two particularly constant brats each looking for something different. 

Draco had left home and sought the world out on his own after his father's imprisonment. Left to his own devices Severus was sure the boy would figure the world out on his own. But it warmed his heart that he still sought out his professor for guidance. His other visitor however was equally surprising and irritating. Each day The Boy Who Lived darkened his doorstep. Sometimes with questions, other times to simply sit in his presence. What started off as broken and difficult conversations grew to lengthy discussions. Ones which he looked forward to each day. What Severus could not understand was why. Of all people why seek him out? Then again why come back to where he lay dying and bring him to hospital himself? Fate had always been slow to reveal herself. 

"Severus?" a silky voice called out from behind him. "We need to be leaving if we are going to make it in time to Professor McGonagall's. You know how she feels about being late."

"You do know you can call her Minerva now. It's been five years," he complained with no real venom.

"Old habits die hard. Isn't that right Professor," he purred enjoying the slight stiffening of his lover when he used that tone. 

"Harry," he growled. "Keep it up and I'll make sure we are late."

Glistening green eyes looked deep into his dark brown ones full of lust. "I love it when we are late," he grinned. 


	6. Day 7: Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill-Ashes

Smoke swirled in front of his face. Twisting and turning as it slowly faded into the cool October night. _It was just another job, _he thought pulling another drag from his cigarette. _Just another job and another paycheck. _He kept repeating the statement over and over in his head just as he did every time he carried out a hit. Twenty years in this business and each time his phone binged with a new email his stomach twisted with butterflies. To the casual bystander he was nothing more than a shadow as fleeting as the smoke rings he blew. Never suspecting the predator that stood before them. Flicking the spent ashes into the breeze his golden eyes lit up.

"Here he comes," he growled. "I wonder what human tastes like from the inside out." Demonic incisors grew to impossible lengths at the thought. Just another job. Just another paycheck. Just another meal. 


	7. Day 8- Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Fill- Ghost
> 
> Toying with the interesting theory that Jack the Ripper might be H.H. Holmes. Or perhaps they knew each other. Or better yet what if one was the apprentice?

One with gas  
Two with blood  
Three with a scalpel  
Four in the mud

Buried in concrete  
Or covered with lye  
Death comes to all who enter  
Holmes Murder Castle if you don't comply

Haunted souls  
Our shrieks you hear  
Ghosts of screams  
Fill your ear

Here he comes  
A friend in tow  
A peculiar accent as he speaks  
He stinks of blood and sex so low

A new found friend  
For our demonic keeper  
Jack so vicious  
The blood soaked reaper


	8. Day 9, 10 & 11- Frail, Misfit & Swing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Fill- Frail, misfit and swing
> 
> Gradence pairing. I'm not sure where this one is going... I have a feeling I might have to change the rating again

_A misfit child, _they called him. _Freak, weak, vile. _All of these names spat out of the New Yorkers as they passed the tall, awkward boy handing out fliers warning of the dangers of witches. Credence was no boy by any means. But a young man beaten into submission for imagined transgressions by an insane woman. Credence was frail. And like a wolf approaching a rabbit, Graves had to be cautious if he were to gain his trust. By the time he did, that was not all he wanted.

Graves stood in the usual alley, waiting for Credence to notice. Something was wrong. Usually the boy took note of his presence almost immediately despite constantly looking towards the ground. Today however he was much more solemn, each of the usual insults stinging him more and more. 

Irritation burned into fury at each passing nomag that passed his boy. Who the hell did they think they were to speak to him like that? It was enough that he could not steal Credence from the clutches of that creature he lived with yet, but the others. Well... they were free game as long as he was subtle. The final straw came from a man swinging his brief case intentionally hitting the boy's arms and sending the useless papers flying. Shoving his hands into his pockets he quickly caught up to the nomag and shoved him into a secluded alley.

"Hey what do you-" the man snapped just as Graves's fist collided with his nose. The man lay flat on his ass clutching his bleeding face in horror.

"You ever say a word to that young man again it will be more than just your nose that is broken. Uttering a small memory altering spell, Graves turned on his heel and left him sitting in the filth where he belonged. 

Quickly he made his way towards the crouched figure picking up papers. The tall boy managed to curl up even smaller as the polished shoes stopped in front of him. Graves dropped down to Credence's level, balancing on the balls of his feet. "Excuse me but I found one of your flyers and found it interesting. If you have a moment I would like to hear more about these witches," he said calmly.

Credence jerked his head up so quickly Graves had to grab his arm to keep him from falling over. "Mr. G-"

"Would you like to take a walk with me and tell me about these witches?" he asked again.

"Yes sir," the boy nodded his eyes focused completely on the man holding him steady. 

To be continued....


	9. Day 12 & 13- Dark & Injured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill- - Dark & injured 
> 
> TW: Aftermath of abuse. There is going to be blood and injuries caused by abuse in this chapter.
> 
> Graves/Credence a continuation from Chapter 8
> 
> I am slowly catching up. Maybe just maybe I'll have it complete by the 31st. Fingers crossed

Graves wrapped his arm around the slumped young man's shoulders and led him away from the corner as quickly as he could without raising suspicion. As they walked Graves asked a few obscure questions about the orphanage's theory on witches. Credence answered in kind. Each rehearsed answer flowing quickly from his lips. Once several blocks away from the prying eyes of Mary Lou he jerked Credence into a secluded alley and down a quick flight of stairs to a battered door.

Tapping on the door three times he whispered " _ Custodi. _ " The door slowly creaked open revealing nothing but empty dark shadows. With another quick glance behind him he ushered Credence inside locking the door behind him. 

The room where they stood held nothing more than the bare essentials. A bed, love seat, writing desk and a small chest of drawers; perfect for a wizard ready to leave at a moments notice. Credence stood at the center of the room in his usual position; head down, shoulders slumped over trying to take up as little room as possible. 

"Credence, what's wrong?" Graves asked stepping in front of him. 

The boy merely shook his head refusing to look up.

"Credence, you can tell me anything," Graves whispered placing his hands on his shoulders. Credence whimpered and jerked at the slightest touch. Graves pulled back to stand at his full height giving him an all too knowing look. "Take off your jacket."

Without so much as a sound Credence complied letting the well worn garment fall to the floor. 

"Now your vest."

Just as he did the jacket, Credence pulled off his vest with the same submissive motions, never looking up from the spot on the floor. 

Graves stalked around him assessing every inch of him looking for wounds. He stopped suddenly when he came to his back. Long brown stripes snaked across his back in cruel lines. Graves was reluctant to pull the shirt from the boy. But with the whip marks already brown with dried blood needed to be clean and free of the shirt before he could heal them. "Take a deep breath Credence. I have to pull this off you," Graves commanded.

Credence simply nodded taking in a deep breath. Graves took a step back and opened his hand calling the shirt towards him. Buttons encasing the boy's chest flew open as the shirt flew into his hand with a sickening rip. It took all the self control that he possessed not to apperate to the Credence's "home" and use Mary Lou as the test subject to the question _What would happen if you used all three deadly curses at once on someone? _ It was worse than the few lines that bled through onto his shirt. Credence's back was riddled with scars and cuts from what Graves could only assume was a buckle. Bright white scars crossed with fading pink ones. Constellations of colorful bruises were sprinkled across his upper shoulders indicating the beginning of the fresh slices down the length of his back. Graves started at the back of his neck and quickly cataloged each injury and which spell he needed to heel him. The fresh wounds ran below his belt and into his well worn pants. Graves closed his eyes, a fresh wave of rage flowing over him. It suddenly dawned on him why this attack on his Credence was worse than the others.

"Credence," he whispered.

"Sir."

"What happened?"

The boy shook his head trying to draw into himself. "I... I'm a freak... impure." His voice barely above a whisper, but Graves had heard.

Moving to face him, Graves wrapped his arms around Credence and pulled him to his chest as tightly as he could without hurting him further. "There is nothing wrong with you Credence. You are not a freak."

Fresh tears streamed down his face as he looked up at Graves. They were only a few inches difference in height and what usually seemed like a vast expanse of space to Credence was growing smaller the longer he looked into Grave's dark eyes. 

"Credence," he whispered.

Using what little courage he could muster, Credence closed the distance between their heights softly pressed his lips against Graves's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is starting to take off on its own and I only have a vague idea where it is going and I have a feeling it is going straight to smuttville.


	10. Day 14 &15- Treasure and Pattern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Fill- Treasure and Pattern
> 
> Mature warning!!! There is no smut in this chapter but it gets pretty close.... Like really close. So if you're not into that then you might want to skip this chapter

Graves froze at Credence's sudden move. The boy had never been so bold before. Quite frankly he assumed that he lacked the confidence to ever speak for what he wanted let alone ask for it. His kiss disappeared as quickly as it came pulling Graves from his unintentional freeze.

"I'm sorry sir," Credence whimpered immediately backing up.

"No my boy do not be sorry." Grave's voice came out louder than he meant it to. Fearing that he might have scared the boy more than he already was he pulled him closer. Graves ran his finger through the inky black hair soothing future tears back to where they belonged. Despite the terrible bowl cut and barren ways Mary Lou forced him to live, his hair was surprisingly soft. Credence leaned into the touch as if it were the only thing keeping him standing. Clenching his hands into tight fists he desperately wanted to touch Graves to feel more of the man that currently held him. But he was unsure. How could a man such as Graves want a freak like him touching him? He was the nicest person he had ever met and the more he was near the wizard the more he wanted. He wanted Graves in ways the transient sailors and merchants spoke of women. Soft flesh, heated kiss pressed against one another. It was these thoughts that caused Mary Lou's rage last night. How she knew what he was thinking he would never understand, but she did and he paid the price. Now Graves, a wizard who haunted his dreams that left him panting in the morning stood before him radiating pity. 

"I'm sorry," he muttered over and over unable to pull away like he knew he needed to.

"Credence," Graves coaxed. "Credence look at me."

Reluctantly he did only to be met with Graves' lips upon his own. He did not pull away like Credence expected him to. Instead he pulled him closer. Credence felt a slight pull at his bottom lip as Graves nipped slightly. On instinct he opened his mouth giving Graves access to more. The older wizard took a change and ravaged the boys mouth. To his surprise Credence kept with the desperate pace. Their tongues twisted and danced eager to show one another what they lacked the ability to say. Graves broke the kiss sucking in a much needed breath of air. _ Fuck, _ he thought.

"Credence I-"

"Please," he whimpered. "Don't stop."

Graves gave him a hard look. The boy was flushed, his lips pink and swollen from their intoxicating kiss and his usual dull eyes filled with fear were now bright with lust. Graves did not want to stop and clearly neither did Credence.

"You will tell me if you want me to stop," he commanded. "No matter what."

"Yes sir," Credence nodded a brilliant new shade of red ghosting his cheeks.

"Promise me."

"I promise."

Graves studied him for a moment longer satisfied with his answer. Despite his promise, Graves intended to take this slow. He had fantasized about Credence for months now. With this new revelation coming to light he did not what to do anything to hurt him. Graves wanted to worship him show him a world beyond the hell he was living in and give him what he deserved. It would be fleeting he knew that. At least until the Obscures was caught. Then Graves could steal him away forever. But until then he focused on today and the frightened lust filled man in his arms.

"Okay," he breathed. Leaning down to capture the boy in another kiss his hands traveled further south towards the belt. Credence whimpered as the tips of Graves fingers ghosted over his hips and began undoing the belt. Tossing it to the side he stepped back to remove his coat and toss it against the ugly love seat couch. "Lay down on your stomach on the bed Credence. I want to heal those wounds."

Credence nodded and did as he was told. Despite the ragged appearance of the maroon bed cover it was surprisingly soft against his bare chest. Unsure of what to do with his arms he stretched them above his head to feel more of the cover. _ This has to be a dream, _ he thought. _ The best dream I've ever had. _A sudden dip in the bed on either side of him pulled him out of his thoughts. This was reality. His midnight dreams surfacing to the real world in the most unexpected of ways.

Graves straddled Credence's legs trapping the slender boy beneath him. He left only his pants on when he climbed to the center of the bed to join his soon to be lover leaving nothing to the imagination. His position was ideal for drinking in the sight of the beautiful creature below him. Graves was thick with solid muscle where Credence was long and lean. The evening dinners he snuck the boy to kept him from becoming malnourished but he doubted that even when he stole him away and properly fed him the boy would bulk up. He was meant to be all long lines and sharp features. Credence was a treasure whether he knew it or not. Graves had every intention of showing him.

“Mr. Graves?” Credence asked turning his head to the side.

Graves leaned down hovering just over his back and whispered to Credence in a sultry low tone, “Call me Percival.”

Credence sucked in a sharp breath his body tingling with want already. Graves smiled. Placing a delicate kiss on his cheek he sat back on his heels careful to keep the bulk of his weight off the boys thighs. Magic flowed through him heating the palms of his hands. Slowly he traced the patterns of fresh cuts down to his pants. He had been born with magic. Used it every day, but at times like this when he repaired a wound that he truly appreciated the wonder of his natural abilities. With the fresh wounds healed he methodically worked his way through the bruises and scars. He healed what he could and lightened those he could not make disappear. Satisfied with the pristine work he leaned forward making sure to grind his growing erection against Credence's ass. 

"How do you feel?" he asked.

***

Credence had felt Mr. G-Percival's magic before. But never this intense. It was as if a stream of warm air swam in and out of his body. The magic flooded his being warming him to the core. The constant chill that haunted his every waking moment floated away. As if banished with the grace of one of those Southern Belle women he occasionally read about. As Graves continued to feed him his magic the head inside him intensified. A familiar burn danced around his hips. He knew these sensations well from the late nights hidden under the blankets of his bed. Those nights he could not stop himself. Thoughts of Graves's hand replacing his own on his throbbing cock. Wondering how those calloused hands would feel exploring his body.

Credence whimpered and ground his hips against the mattress. His cock growing painfully hard, trapt behind his now too tight pants. As if sensing his uncomfortable situation, Graves's magic receded leaving him feeling empty. "Perc-ah," he moaned feeling what could only be Graves's cock pressed hard up against his ass. The idea of having that inside him both terrified and thrilled him. He wanted to be perfect for Percival. If only he knew what he was doing. 

"How does that feel?" Graves asked.

"A-amazing," Credence stammered.

"Good, I'm going to remove your pants now okay?"

"Y-yes please sir," his voice shaking with a nervousness that he could not stamp down wanting noting more than to speak confidently. Especially when pinned down by Percival Graves. 

"You don't have to call me _sir _Credence. Just say my name," Graves whispered nibbling softly on his ear.

"Percival," Credence moaned pressing up against him.

"Good boy. " Graves slowly made his way down towards Credence's hips nipping and licking as he went. Each touch reverberated in his lovers hips leaving him writhing beneath him. It did not take long for Graves to find a spot that had Credence panting in sharp whispers of his name. Running his fingers across his hips Credence arched against his touch. Taking a change he gently bit the soft flesh and sucked a new bruise. One that Credence would be quite fond of each time he touched the spot. The sounds coming from the boy sent his blood straight to his cock. It took all of his self control not to strip Credence bare and pound into him in search of more of those delightful noises. "Raise your hips Credence."

Credence immediately obeyed raising his hips high enough for Graves to quickly undo the two buttons and shove the zipper down. Graves made quick work of the clothing; careful of any potential new injuries. With the young man stripped bare in front of him he could not help but to thank whatever mystical forces in the universe that brought him to Credence. "Merlin Credence you are beautiful."

The boy quickly buried his face in the comforter muttering some unintelligible.

"Credence?" Graves asked pulling his hand away from where they hovered above his ass. "Do you want me to stop?"

Slowly he turned his head to the side to look up at Graves tears leaking from his dark eyes. "Please don't lie Mr. Graves. I know what I look like."

"Credence," he stated, his voice soft but sharp with authority. "I have never lied to you before have I?"

"No sir," he whispered.

"And I would not lie to you now. You are beautiful Credence. A true treasure, my treasure."

Credence pulled into himself tears flowing freely at his words. No one had ever spoken to him like that. He felt the truth of his words wash over him and no one could take that from him. Even if today was the only day he could spend wrapped up in Percival's arms, he would always know that someone as astounding as the wizard found him beautiful.

"I'm going to show you how beautiful you are." Running his hands over the remaining cuts and scars, he could finally focus on Credence and all the things he wanted to do to him. It was only a drop in the bucket compared to what he had planned for their lives after the Obscurus. But for now it would have to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am going to leave this here for the Inktober 2019 prompts and continue it else where. This little fic sprung up out of nowhere and took off on its own accord. If you are interested in the complete smut version I will be posting it here shortly under the title of Wounded Raven


	11. Day 16, 17 & 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill day 16-18: Dragon, Wild & Ancient.

“God damn it,” she growled tugging at the chains around her wrists. She knew this would happen, just not this soon. Every year on the night of the Harvest moon someone was chosen to stand at the altar. Stripped bare of everything save a glistening emerald around their neck they were chained with hands high above their heads to prevent escape. According to the elders tribute must be paid every year to the sea dragon. A young man or woman with a shining gem attached to their neck twice a year. Spring and fall harvest in exchange for mild weather for crops, favorable seas for the fish and fertility for the land. Considering the tales from distant lands their little kingdom spared little for the gifts they received. Fyre once overheard a traveling merchant telling a tale of the dragon who ruled over the inland. A vile cruel beast that required sacrifice each new moon. Preferring children above all other meals. 

Fyre’s kingdom was fortunate in that regard. She however did not feel so fortunate. She knew she would be chosen. _ Lottery at random my ass, _she thought. Too bold for a woman her tutors once told her parents. As a child running wild through the forest with her brothers, partaking in swordplay and fights she was never one to mind the homestead. Aside from cooking she never acquired the skills to be a proper wife and home-keeper as her mother would say. Bending to anyone’s will but her own was beneath her. Especially when it was a man she detested. 

Perhaps the broken bones were a bit excessive but no less than the son of the Governor deserved for trying to bed her without her permission. The prat should have known better. Then again, so should she. Now he was the one sitting at home drinking himself stupid while she was the one standing naked bathed in moonlight waiting to meet her end. 

A violent splash of sea spray ripped her from her thoughts. The sea in front of her swirled and opened up as if the water was being drained from the ocean floor. Raven schooled her expression to one of defiance. “I will not beg for my life,” she yelled at the violent water. “If you want me, come take me but I will not bow at your feet.”

An ancient voice filled her thoughts. “So bold young one. I have never had food speak to me as you do. It would be wise to fear me.”

“Bite me,” Fyre snapped. 

A large claw shot out of whirlpool and wrapped around her jerking the woman from the altar. Stone and chain snapped against the dragon’s strength as if it were made from straw. The claw enclosed nearly her entire body. Stretching from under her armpits to the center of her calves without a shred of light to penetrate the grip. Even as she was being pulled to her death Raven was impressed. Being a rather tall woman, just slightly under the height of a grown man, the talons surely would have swallowed a normal woman whole. As she was pulled under the chilling wind from the whirlpool whipped the chain still binding her around until colliding against the side of her head with a solid _ crack! _Pain resonated through her skull blurring her vision until only the shimmering teal scales faded into black. 

\------

Heat radiating from a nearby fire warmed her drenched form. _ He must be cooking me first, _she thought. It took her a few moments to gain her senses enough to understand that she was no longer being held by a dragon’s claw or even outside. She lay on a nest of soft furs and pillows with a heavy blanket covering her. The sound of boots clicking against stone ground caused her to swiftly sit up right pulling the blanket around her as best she could for modesty. Keeping her eyes down a pair of polished black boots stopped at the edge of the furs.

“Well well what do we have here?” a feminine voice rang out. The strangers voice flowed like fine silk with a sultry tone that sent a shiver down Raven’s spine. Suddenly she was not near as brave as she was on the altar. “The young one with a viper’s tongue has suddenly grown silent,” the voice quipped. “What was it you said? Eat me. Perhaps I shall. Look up little viper.” 

Fyre wanted to resist but the pull of her voice was too much. It called to her in ways that the simple act of speaking should not. She should be terrified, defiant, strong but instead she squeezed her thighs together in hopes of squandering her desire before her death. Warily she looked up meeting the gaze of intoxicating golden eyes shimmering as if they were made from the molten metal. _ Bloody hell, _ she thought, _ this can’t be right. _


	12. Day 19 & 20: Dizzy & Coat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill: Dizzy & coat

Fyre looked up at the figure in stunned silence. In place of a towering dragon stood a woman dressed in black trousers matching her boots and a corset the same color as the dragon scales trimmed with dark lace accenting every curve of her powerful frame. A long black coat hung from her shoulders looking more like a cape than a garment worn to stave off the cold. The dark coat accentuated her curves further. A style unheard of in Raven’s kingdom. To be a woman was to hide her curves under layers of dresses and shirts. Loose enough to hide whatever femine curves a woman may possess. According to the world she knew only a husband should see the true shape of his wife. Yet here stood a woman who had not uttered a word since Raven looked up at her radiating authority and power enough to frighten a king, flaunting her female form. 

“Stand up,” she ordered. “I wish to see what the kingdom of Rothdun gifted me this season.”

Fyre swiftly moved to follow the command pulling the blanket up with her. No one had ever seen her naked before and the prospect of being sized up for a meal did not help ease her fears. The movement too quick sent pain shooting from the side of her head. Immediately she became dizzy, her vision blurred as she pitched forward. A pair of strong arms reached out and prevented her from falling. 

“I’m so-sorry m’am I-”

“Hush young one,” she snapped scooping Raven up into her arms as if she weighed nothing. 

As Fyre’s vision cleared she took in what she could of the woman who carried her. She was pulled tight against her chest so that Raven’s face was buried against her neck. The woman smelled of flames and salt water much like the fireplace of her home when father burned hickory on a summer night. She also smelled of something forign. A scent she could not place but overwhelmed her senses in the most intimate of ways. Tentatively, she reached up and ran her fingers over her neck and down to her exposed collar bone. Her breath hitched and pulled her closer.

“Young one I would not do that if I were you,” she warned. 

“Who are you?” she asked coming back to herself with each step. 

“I am Isirth.”

“The dark one,” she gasped.

“I have been called that, but it has been a long time. Do not concern yourself young one with the old tales. I must see to your injury then inspect you,” Isirth spoke with a tone as cold as ice.

“Inspect me for what?”

Setting Fyre down she pulled away and turned towards the door. “If you are adequate to become my mate. Stay here, I will return shortly.”

Fyre watched as Isirth walked out of cave dumbfounded. She sat their horrified.  _ Mate? Does that mean she expects me to carry her children. Giving birth to dragons? How can she even take me?  _ Her mind raced with questions. “I guess that means she isn’t going to eat me,” she muttered under her breath.

“Not unless you are unfit to mate,” Isirth answered stepping onto the furs.

Fyre jumped at her presence and scrambled backwards. The cave was vast with sounds echoing at the slightest movement. Yet Isirth walked in without making so much as a click of boot heels on the stone floor. “Come here young one,” she called her voice much warmer. “I must attend to your head.”

Fyre looked over at her then at the open doorway. Figuring there was no way to outrun a dragon she slid across the furs with in reaching distance. Silently dropping to her knees she tended to the gaping wound on the young woman’s head. Fyre closed her eyes reveling in the sensations. Each touch was far more gentle than she expected of The Dark One. With the various liquids and salves Isirth placed on her wound the sharp throbbing in her head faded to a mild ache and the nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach gone. 

“How are you feeling young one?” Isirth asked.

“Much better thank you,” she smiled.

“Good now lay back so that I may inspect you.”

“Wait wait wait. Aren’t you going to ask my name? Or do you just want to make me your mate? What does that even mean? I mean I’m a woman and you’re a-”

“Slow down young one slow down,” she cooed.

Taking a deep breath Fyre looked straight into the dragon’s eyes. “I am human. How is it you expect me to give birth to dragons?”

“I am no dragon young one. I am a shape shifter.”

“Then wh-where is the dragon?”

“There is no dragon only me. I am the son of Proteus, the first shape shifter. I can shift into any creature I desire although I favor this form over all others. To answer another question that is how we will mate. I will shift into my male form to fill you with my seed.”

Fyre’s face erupted into a deep shade of scarlet at her vulgarity. She knew she truly had no choice in the matter. Unlike the Governor's son, she knew she could not best Isirth in a fight. She was trapped in this castle built from caves. To be a breeding post for the shifter or meal if the stories of The Dark One were true. Against her wishes tears flowed freely down her face. 

Israth’s cold expression softened at the sight of the girl’s tears. This was no way to begin a bond. The girl had not asked for this and despite all Isirth’s gifts she needed the girl. It would soon be time to breed. If Isirth did not breed her once the cycle began then her ability to produce offspring would be forever gone. “What is your name young one?” she asked wiping the tears from her face. 

“Fyre.”

“Fire,” she repeated. “A powerful name meaning to engulf one’s enemies in flames. An accurate description. Not many would stand on and altar challenging a great creature like a dragon.”

Despite herself a small smile graced her lips. The woman was an exceptional beauty with a fire about her when challenged. The human had much to learn but had the makings of a great warrior. 

“My dear Fyre,” she said. “Have you ever wanted to be a goddess?”


	13. Day 21- Ripe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill: Ripe

Silence hung in the summer breeze heavy with the sticky sweat of humidity. Not even the birds spoke or insects flew in the heat of the mid afternoon. All was still save for one being slowly making their way through the garden. His steps had slowed from their once graceful pace to a shuffle. Where once stood a tall proud man now a hunched over graying shadow resided. Eyeing the bright red tomatoes dotting the fence painted with vines, he plucked one shining it on his shirt. The fat specimen was exceptionally ripe for the taking. IT would make a delightful sandwich this evening. Perfect for a thieving house keepers last day. 


	14. Dat 22 & 23: Legend & Tread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill- Legend and tread

The aspirations from one teenager to the next are much the same when it boils down to it. They want to be legends. Whether it was football, dancing or academics are the only true variations. The one constant, a desire to go down in history. Many will never achieve this. Most spend their lives chasing a meager means of life and happiness. I, however became a legend.

On a bitter October night as I tread through the cemetery I stumbled upon what has only been whispered about in dark corners of society. Children telling his tale around campfires with the safety of s'mores and camp councilors. Adults sharing looks and broken words those who were there, those who remember. I thought it was all just a bunch of stories meant to frighten children. Or to keep teens from wandering the streets during cold October nights. I should have listened that day. What is dead should stay dead


	15. Day 24 & 25- Catch & Tasty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill: Catch and tasty

"What an excellent catch Ivan. Where did you get it?" Victor asked giving the bound were a sharp kick.

The restrained creature growled beneath his gag. Ivan stomped his foot just short of his face, his werewolf features escaping their glamour in warning. "I picked him up a bar. Poor thing didn't realize whose bed he was trying to crawl into."

Victor grinned. It would take a lot more than a fine piece of ass to infiltrate his pack ranks. His wolves were too loyal. And he was not known for forgiveness in the face of betrayal. "What sort of tasty snack should we make with him?"

"That's not why I brought him to you."

"Really?" Victor raised his eyebrows his curiosity peaked. "Then what is?"

"This little panther here wants out of his pack and figures the best way to buy our protection is giving up information."

"Interesting," he said glaring down at what could be his greatest asset since taking the role of Alpha. 


	16. Day 26 & 27: Overgrown & Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill: Overgrown and Ride

“Now we ride,” the knight bellowed flicking the reins of his horse. The great beast took off into the forest; the sound of his hooves thundering through the vast canopy of trees. A small brigade of knights fell into line behind the lead knight. Each of the horses pummeled the ground as they ran. They knew not where they were heading, only that their masters needed to arrive in great haste, The lead horse felt bad for brightening the forest creatures but it could not be helped. They were in pursuit. 

Unlike the great beasts behind him, the lead horse knew what the humans sought. A dark creature. One with the body of a black stallion but the teeth of a wolf. It had been wreaking havoc throughout the kingdom and they had to capture it. Send it back to the depths of Hell where it belonged. 

Suddenly the forest opened up to a clearing. Trees and foliage leaning outwards as if trying to run from the inhabitant. Set in the center was a house, overgrown with twisted vines and thorn covered plants. 

_ No,  _ the lead horse thought slowly backing up.  _ Not here. We cannot be here. _

The door slowly opened and shadows spilled out as if someone dropped an ink pot across parchment.

“Fall back,” the brave knight shrieked. “Fall back.”


	17. Day 28 & 29- Build & Enchanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill: Build & Enchanted

“My momma’s building it right now,” the four year old grinned as he took another bite of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Eagerly he kicked his feet back and forth in the too large dining room chair. His neighborhood friend sat next to him equally restless as he finished his own lunch. 

“Boys are you done eating,” the woman called from the backyard.

“Yes momma.”

“Okay come on out.”

The boys leapt from the table and exploded into the backyard. Both boys shrieked in delight. Standing before them was a massive castle built with enchanted wood to keep out all intruders. Save for mother and dogs of course. A set of swings hung happily to the right, a large slide to the left pouring out from the second floor. What they could not see yet were the mystical paths hidden by the enchanted walls that lead to tucked away rooms for reading and playing. As well as a sandbox dug into the ground safe from the harsh sunlight. 

“Go on, go play,” his mother said picking up the last of her tools.  _ It is amazing how some wood and screws turn into a magical castle in the eyes of four year old,  _ she thought to herself. 


	18. Day 30 & 31- Ornament & Sling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Fill: Ornament & sling

“Here you go darling. You put on the last one,” he smiled handing his lover the last Christmas ornament. 

The man rolled his eyes. “That thing is cursed.”

“You only say that because you are the fool who tried to put it on the top using a chair instead of the ladder.”

“That ornament cost me a dislocated shoulder and now my arm is in a sling,” he grumbled going to standing by his husband. Giving their small Christmas tree a good once over he could not help but smile. It was a beautiful tree. Decked out in shining blue and silver. It was his own fault after all. But it made for an interesting and hilarious Christmas story. At Least his husband thought so. 


End file.
